


Follow Me There (A Beautiful Somewhere)

by Mmitchell0826



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Panic Attacks, Stiles Has Panic Attacks, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 11:49:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3609051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mmitchell0826/pseuds/Mmitchell0826
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has been taken and held captive for a year. See what happens when he gets back. How will he cope, how will his friends deal. What will Derek do?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Follow Me There (A Beautiful Somewhere)

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning: Panic Attacks, theapy.

Posters were taped to everything along the street, and it was only after passing the third one that he actually noticed who was on them. He tore the first one he could get his hands on off the pole and stared in shock. Missing, the first line read, Stiles Stilinski Age 21. He looked down at his torn black t-shirt and muddy ripped jeans. The poster described exactly what he was wearing.

  
12 months, that’s how long it said he has been missing for. He started running, his bare feet a drum beat against the pavement. His heart was racing in his chest, he needed his dad. Just as he turned the corner he slammed into another body and fell onto his back. As he looked up two burning red eyes stared down at him. As they slowly turned back to brown he recognized the face. Scott.

  
"St-Stiles?"  
"Explain this" Stiles said his voice raspy and worn out  
"Stiles! it's you. it's really you!" Scott said leaning down towards the fallen boy. Stiles scrambled back.  
"Hey, Dude it's me! I'm not going to hurt you" he said  
"what is this?" Stiles tried again, shoving the paper in Scotts face.  
"come on" Scott replied, reaching his hand out "let's go see your dad"  
Stiles ignored the outstretched hand and stood up himself. They walked one more block to the station which was where Stiles was headed. Stiles followed Scott inside, hands in his pockets, eyes on the floor. When they reached the Sheriff's office Scott glanced back one last time at Stiles then knocked on the door.  
"Come in" The Sheriffs voice was faint behind the closed door. Scott opened the door.

  
"Sir, I have…um" Scott sounded lost, he was saved from finding the words by Stiles slowly stepping beside him.  
"Stiles" The Sheriffs voice was strained. He sounded confused and relieved and sad all at once.  
"Son. Where…what…when did you…" He couldn’t think.  
"That just leaves who and why" Stiles said with a sad smile playing at his lips  
The sheriff was up and out from behind his desk in a second. He had his arms around his son in a tight embrace. Stiles stiffened when his dad touched him. 'he's not going to hurt me' was the mantra running through his head. Stiles hated the way the rough texture of his dads coat felt pressed up against him. He couldn’t stand the heat of his dads skin as his dads hands found the back of his neck. Stiles almost let out a whimper as the Sheriff stepped back and ran his hand through Stiles long hair and then down his cheek and finally down his arm until he reached Stiles cold, cut up and bleeding hands.  
"what happened to you son?" the Sheriff asked as he finally stepped away.

  
"I don-" he took a shaky breath and tried again "I don’t remember"  
"what do you mean you don’t remember?"  
"I mean I don’t remember what happened" Stiles said his voice lowering to a whisper with each passing word.  
"ok. it's ok son" the sheriff said lifting his hand to place on Stiles shoulder but quickly lowering it after seeing his sons scared face.  
"What! it's not ok. none of this is ok" Scott shouted his eyes once again turning red. Stiles nearly jumped out of his skin at the shout and moved into the far corner of the room. he crouched down as low as he could and made himself as small as possible.

  
"I'm sorry. Stiles I'm-" Scott started toward Stiles but stopped the second Stiles hands came up to his ears.  
"no,no,no,no,no…"Stiles was softly chanting trying to pull his legs even tighter into his chest.  
"Stiles, it's ok we are not going to hurt you" the Sheriffs voice was low and soft, fatherly. Stiles eyes slowly opened to stare at his dad.  
"Come on son, I'm going to take you home"

  
Scott didn’t know what to do. The scent of Stiles was still all over him from when they ran into each other on the street and Scott couldn’t stand it. He didn’t know where to go. His mother wasn’t home, Kira was working, she had a substitute position at a local elementary school. Everyone else just wasn’t around anymore, either at college or just away from the pain that Beacon Hills caused. Scott went to his last resort. Derek.  
Derek was working on the Hales house front porch when Scott drove up the dirt driveway. Derek was fixing up his old house, he was almost finished except for a few things. The house was beautiful.

  
"Scott" Derek said before he could even get his helmet off "What do you want?"  
They weren't friends, Scott and Derek. They slowly drifted when everyone graduated high school and then again when Scott and Stiles went off to college. The only reason they still even talked was because of Stiles. Stiles always liked Derek, even when Derek was an ass to them. So Stiles kept going around to Derek's and they struck up an odd friendship. Scott always thought it would become more but it never did, when Stiles went missing Scott stopped talking to Derek completely. It was too hard to smell Stiles everywhere that Derek was.

  
"Its Stiles…he um…he's back" Scott was still at his bike but knew Derek would hear him.  
Scott heard the intake of breath and watched as Derek slowly stumbled back into the wall. "come" He said and then walked into the house. Scott found him pacing the living room, his hands clenching and unclenching like he was trying to keep his claws from coming out. Scott let him pace and let his eyes roam around the room. It was as beautiful inside as it was outside. The room was decorated in a gothic manner, all reds and blacks and grey. A fireplace was against one wall with pictures lining the mantle. What caught Scotts eyes though was the room just off of the living room. It was brightly lit and smelled funny to Scott. He slowly made his way over to it and was surprised at what he found. the smell was paint, and oil, and dust from chalk. The room was covered in papers, and canvas, and even cardboard boxes and old receipts. All of it with Stiles face, hands, mouth, body and especially eyes on it. the light from the floor to ceiling windows made the paintings almost angelic like. Derek was an artist and an amazing one at that. Just as Scott picked up a receipt that had Stiles whiskey colored eyes on it he was forcibly pulled from the room with a loud growl sounding in his ears.  
"Stiles. is. back. Explain" Derek said through the fangs in his mouth as he threw Scott to the ground.

  
"He just, he just showed up Derek." Scott said getting to his feet. "I was going to see his dad and he ran into me. literally"  
"was he…is he ok?" Derek was pacing again, this time in full beta form.  
"No, he's not ok. He is so far from ok Derek! he was barefoot and bloody and acting like a scared child when anyone even went near him. I don’t know what happened to him or if we can even fix it"

  
Derek stopped and stared at Scott. They locked eyes for what felt like hours before Derek finally pulled away. Scott knew he wasn’t a talker, he had a hard time saying how he felt and what it was he needed. So it wasn’t a complete surprise when he fully shifted and left. Scott watched as the wolf ran out the door and then into the woods and disappeared. Scott never understood how Stiles and Derek worked, never understood why Stiles always wanted to be around him when he didn’t know how to communicate without his wolf. Now Scott understood at least one thing though, Derek would do anything to protect Stiles so he wouldn’t be surprised if Derek eventually ended up at the Stilinski house.

  
Stiles felt wrong. Everything was too soft. The car seat on the ride back to the house, the couch where he had to again tell his dad he didn’t remember, even the lights were not bright enough. Everything had a softness, a roundness to it that Stiles couldn’t stand. When his father suggested he take a shower Stiles almost didn’t know what to do. The water burned his cut, raw skin and the smells attacked his nose and eyes. When he wrapped the towel around his waist it felt itchy and wrong against his skin. Everything in his room felt odd too. The lights weren't bright enough and the floor was too soft, he didn’t even go near his bed. After putting on clothes that were too stiff, he went downstairs to find his dad. He smelled something cooking and only then realized how hungry he really was.

  
"Hey son, I made you grilled cheese" his dad said when he walked into the kitchen. When he turned around he almost lost the plate and sucked in a loud echoing breath "Stiles"  
"I'm ok dad" he said. He wasn’t ok. He knew he wasn’t ok but he had to be for his dad. Stiles knew he looked bad. He snuck a few glances in the mirror after his shower. He had cuts and bruises all over his face. He had a long gash running down his arm and his legs were covered in ugly yellow and green contusions. the scars that littered his body were like little white reminders that something terrible happened to him and if he stood on his feet for too long he felt excruciating pain. He had to be strong though. He was always the strong one, the sane one, the one with the plan B that got everyone out of the disaster that plan A got them into. Stiles, the spark, the glue that held everyone together. He had to be strong.

  
"You are not ok" his dad finally said, placing the plate on the table "We are going to the hospital after you eat"  
Stiles ate without really chewing while his dad stared in sad confusion. He should have known they would eventually go to the hospital, his dad wasn’t stupid. Something terrible happened to him and he needed to be checked, prodded, examined. Stiles just didn’t know if he was strong enough to get through that.  
"What happened to you?"

"I don’t remember, and I don’t know how long it's going to take to get it back dad" Stiles said through unshed tears.

  
Derek couldn’t believe Stiles was back. He spent months searching and found nothing. When it hurt too much to keep coming up empty he stopped. He now spent his days fixing up the house and drawing. He drew Stiles, only Stiles. He missed him. He missed the way he always had to fill the silence. He missed how he could never sit still. He missed his smell, his laugh, his smile. Derek let his guard down around Stiles the way he never did with anyone else. They were close and getting closer each day. Derek really liked Stiles in a it scares him how much he really cares kind of way, and then one day he was gone. Stiles being gone almost broke Derek but he was learning to cope. Stiles being back opened a wound inside of Derek that left him feeling scared and confused and wrong.

  
Being in his wolf form Derek didn’t feel things the way humans did so it was easier, more simple, more animal. He wondered the woods for hours, cooling his paws in the cold streams. He caught a scent and chased small game, bunnies and squirrels, following it. He spotted a deer but didn’t have the energy to pursue it. The scent led him to a backyard and when he got closer to the door he realized whose house it was. Stiles. The human side took over then and he shifted back. He found a bin with his clothes in it and after getting changed he ran for the door. The wolf part of Derek wanted to run inside and find stiles, to see, feel, mark. The human side reeled the wolf in and he knocked.  
"Derek?" The sheriff opened the door and Derek almost pushed past him. He needed to get to stiles.  
"Dad, who is it?" Stiles called from the living room.

  
A sound came from Derek that was all animal, a whine that was filled with pain. "I need to see him"  
"I don’t think that’s a good idea right now son, Stiles is really…fragile"  
"Dad, who-" Stiles stopped midstride. The speed at which he backed away from the door was impressive. When he hit a wall he turned toward the stairs and ran. Derek could hear his labored breath and his pounding heart. The sheriff didn’t even shut the door he just ran after his son. Derek didn’t know what do to. He felt wrong following after them but he also didn’t know if he could leave either. He just about made up his mind and was about to shut the door when he heard his voice. His heart leapt to his throat and he almost shifted right there. He reeled the wolf in and inched closer the stairs. he listened but what he heard was breaking him, opening the wound in his chest that he tried so hard to heal. He let out a painful howl and then shifted again and was out the door and back in the woods.

  
Stiles was not ready for Derek. He wasn’t ready to see him, for him to be at his house. He needed more time. As soon as he saw him something happened in his brain that told him to run. He needed to be away from him, away from the man, away from wolf.  
"Stiles" his dad said from behind the door "Can I come in?"  
"yes" he said softly, He knew the only way to be left alone was if his dad talked to him first.  
"What happened back there?"  
"I just, I needed be away. I don’t want him…that wolf in this house, please dad, he can't be here, he can't, I don’t want-" Stiles couldn’t breathe.  
"Okay, it's ok. He's gone, he's not coming in, he left. You have to breath Stiles"  
Stiles calmed down, his breathing slowed and all he wanted to do was sleep. His father led him to the bed and he laid down. Just as he was about to drift off he heard his dads voice.

  
"Stiles?" He opened his eyes and looked into his dads tear filled ones.  
"How did you get out?"  
"I don’t know" and he didn’t. That was the scariest part, Stiles had no idea how he got out of wherever he was. His dad sighed and Stiles knew that wasn’t the right answer, but it was the only answer he had.  
"Go to sleep son" he said getting off the bed and shutting the door he left Stiles alone.

  
Stiles tried, he tried so hard to sleep in the soft, warm bed. He couldn’t, his body wasn’t used to the softness of the mattress, the warm comforter, the soft, cool sheets. He was used to cold, hard floors. A lumpy hard mattress, when he was lucky. Stiles remembered that, being uncomfortable, being in a cold hard room. He couldn’t remember why he was there or who had him there but he did remember that.  
It was around two in the morning that Stiles decided he couldn’t sleep, at least not in his bed. He slowly made his way downstairs, being careful with each step so he wouldn’t wake his dad. He made it to the kitchen and got a glass a water. he leaned back against the cabinets and then slowly slid to the floor. His memory was coming back in quick spurts and stiles hated every second of it. He was remembering things that were done to him but not who was doing it.  
Stiles didn’t remember falling asleep but when he opened his eyes the sun was shining through the window and someone was gently shaking his shoulder. Stiles jumped to his feet and fled to a corner his back against the wall, the other three corners of the room in plain sight.

  
"It's ok son" his dad was saying  
It wasn’t ok, this was wrong. He shouldn’t be there, it wasn’t real. It was just another hallucination. "Were are they. Where are you! I know you can hear me! make this stop" Stiles yelled then started whispering "make it stop, please. I'll tell you, please just make it stop"  
"Stiles! Stiles" He heard his dad but knew it wasn’t real, it was all just a dream.  
"Stiles, come on, come back to me"  
Someone was touching him. "no, please don’t, not again"  
"Stiles open your eyes, please son, open your eyes"  
He did, very slowly, and there was his dad looking scared and sad and confused.  
"This isn't real" Stiles whispered  
"it is" his dad whispered right back.

  
"How do I know?' he whined  
"You count your fingers. You taught me that remember? You have extra fingers in dreams, so let's count" his dad held up his hands and together, very slowly they counted them, all ten of them. Stiles took in a slow shaky breath and it came out in a sob.  
"Hey there kiddo. you back?" his dads voice was calm albeit a bit shaky.  
"yeah. yeah I'm back. Sorry"  
"Sorry! kid there is nothing to be sorry for" He went to give him a hug but when he flinched away he stopped.  
"I'm calling Ms. Morrell today. you need to see someone, maybe talking will help you readjust better."  
"Yeah, ok"

  
Scott hated not being able to help. He was always the one that could help and not being able to was killing him. Leaving his best friend when he just got him back was the worst feeling in the world for Scott. He was always the one to fix things and when he realized he couldn’t help stiles it broke his heart. He didn’t know how to just let Stiles heal on his own. Watching him walk away with his dad was one of the worst things Scott ever had to do. He didn’t want to let him out of his sight, not after just getting him back after a year. He hated himself for letting Stiles get taken in the first place. He should have known, he should have been with him that night, he should- he should have found him!  
Going to Derek right after the Sheriff's station was mistake, Scott realized that but he didn’t know what else to do. What do you do when you get your best friend back? He thought Derek should know Stiles was back, Derek deserved to know but going to him first was a bad idea. Now he was back where he started, alone without a clue about what to do.

  
It's been two days since Stiles has been back and Scott had been patrolling his house. He heard everything Stiles said about Derek, about the wolf. It hurt Scott, the words burying themselves deep into the pockets of his mind that still considered himself a monster. His mom tried to comfort him, she was after all the one that the Sheriff took Stiles too when he first came home. Stiles was fine physically, just a lot of cuts and bruises but no permanent damage. She also said his memory should come back in time, sometimes when people go through something tragic they have memory loss. Stiles was going to see Ms. Morrell so Scott hoped that would help. He needed Stiles to remember so Scott could take of it, he needed to fix this problem. Scott watched as the sheriff and Stiles left the house that afternoon. He followed them to Eichen House where he knew Ms. Morrell still had an office. He watched the two walk into the building and then he found a comfortable spot under a tree to wait for them come back out, promising himself not use his wolf hearing to listen in on Stiles.

  
Driving Stiles to that hospital, again, was painful for the Sheriff. He hated taking his boy back to that hospital. He knew he had too, knew that Ms. Morrell was the only therapist in Beacon Hills that could help because she was the only therapist who knew about werewolves and other supernatural happenings. It still hurt, hurt knowing that as Stiles father he couldn’t help. Walking into that building was like going back in time. Stiles was a different person, in more ways than one, the last time they came to this place together. It was still so difficult for the Sheriff because coming to that building meant that something was wrong with his little boy. Knowing that he didn’t have to leave him there this time helped but he could tell that Stiles was also having a hard time.

  
Stiles was scary still and quiet walking beside him. Stiles was never this still, his hands were always going, his mouth was always going. Since he was a little boy Stiles couldn’t keep his body from fidgeting, school was so hard for him until the doctors finally diagnosed him with ADHD and he got the medicine he needed. Even then he still was a very animated person. Seeing him like this, so calm and composed was scary. What happened to his Stiles. Melissa said he was fine, that physically his body was just beat up but it would heal. His mind on the other hand, his mind was using every defense mechanism in the book just to get through the day. That’s where Ms. Morrell came in, hopefully talking to someone Stiles would remember what happened, who took him, and they can finally start the real healing process.  
They finally came to the door that they would both be entering every other day for the next, well he honestly didn’t know, that was up to Stiles. Thankfully her office was in a separate wing, away from where Stiles stayed before. The Sheriff didn’t know if either of them could handle going back to the places that Stiles walked as himself, and the Nogitsune. He took a deep breath, took one last glance at Stiles for his approval and after the nod knocked on the door. A soft 'come in' came from inside and he opened the door.

  
"Stiles, Sheriff" Ms. Morrell greeted as they walked in. She was standing behind a beautiful cherry wood desk. All around the room were bright, happy paintings. Flowers, trees, sunsets and sunrises. Pictures of her with her family and as a child were on bookshelves and small end tables. On the opposite wall from the windows was a black leather couch. He scoffed in his head at the cliché, imagining Stiles with his eyes closed trying not to move as he talked to her about 'how that made him feel'.  
"Please, call me John" he finally said.

  
"very well, John" She turned her eyes toward Stiles with a knowing look and it unnerved John. she always had that stern yet somewhat friendly look to her. She looked so young yet when you looked in her eyes you knew she had an old soul.  
"Each session is an hour long. We will explore a wide range of topics, mostly guided by you, Stiles, but some by me. Nothing we discuss here will leave this room, and it will be up to Stiles whether he shares anything discussed in this room with you John"  
"Okay" The sheriff hated that but knew that it was policy, he just wanted his son to be better.  
"So we will see you in an hour. There is a waiting room just down the hall with light refreshments and a TV if you would like to wait there" she said dismissing him.  
"I'll be there when you're done, ok kid" He said and touched his hand to Stiles forearm quickly so he didn’t startle him. The flinch was still very evident though.  
The loud click of the door shutting behind him was deafening.

  
Stiles hated being there the minute they walked in the door. Ms. Morrell always gave him the creeps, she always knew too much but said too little. The way she talked grated on his nerves and he wanted to punch her sometimes when she gave an answer so cryptically. Coming to see her was for his dad so he was going to stick it out for him.  
"Sit, please" Ms. Morrell said gesturing to the couch. Stiles noticed that in the other corner was a green computer chair. it was green! he wasn’t sure if he has ever seen a green one before and vowed before he ended things with Morrell he would sit in it. For now he sat on the cold, hard leather couch. Morrell brought her own, black computer chair around from behind the desk and sat opposite Stiles a notebook and pen poised on her lap.  
"I'm going to be writing a few things down during our sessions, is that ok Stiles?"

  
He hated the way she said his name. "Yes"  
"Ok, so let's begin. I know most of the circumstances of why you are here but I'm hoping we can figure out the missing pieces together. Now I wanted to start with as far back as you remember before the incident happened, is that ok?"  
The incident. He hated her more for calling it that. He had a feeling he was going to be lashing out her sooner than he thought. Displacement, sure let's get that defense mechanism out of the way first.  
"Stop asking me if everything is ok! I'm not a child, I'm not going to break." he snapped. "and you can drop the whole professional psychologist act, we know each other, we've fought together"

  
"Okay. then tell me, what do you remember before and leading up to the incident?"  
"The incident. I hate that! stop calling it that! I got taken ok, someone came to my work place and took me! that’s all I remember. I can't remember what was happening before, it's like, it's like something is just blocking it! I can't stand it. I hate that I can't remember and I hate that everyone expects me too! I hate that I have to come here and see you with your smug looks and old soul eyes! I hate that I can't go talk to…to De…no, no…"  
"Stiles" her hand reached out to him  
"No!" he yelled and moved to the other side of the couch.

  
His heart was racing, it felt like it was going to explode in his chest. Any minute now he was going to die, his heart was going to beat right out of his chest and burst on the floor. Morrell was just watching him, watching him die and not doing a damn thing!  
He remembers working on something, working on…on something! He can't remember what, can't remember the events of the day leading up to him being taken but he remembers researching, just not what he was researching.  
"Stiles" Her voice pulls him back, out of his head. "Are you back with me?"  
"Yes" his breathing has slowed, his heart did not in fact explode.

  
"Ok, so let's not start there. Tell me something that makes you happy" she asks  
"Something that makes me happy?" the sarcasm and disdain dripping off the words surprises even him.  
"Yes. or the happiest memory you have"  
"Scott" he says automatically "Scott makes me happy. and…and Researching things, finding out new information" He settles his body into the couch "I remember, it was in like fifth grade we were assigned an animal and had to research it and write a report. Scott came over and we just sat around a pile of books and used my dad's computer. I stayed up way past Scott. I can still tell you anything you need to know about Elephants"

  
"So Scott, and finding out new information make you happy?"  
"Don’t, don’t say it like that! like its weird or wrong!" Stiles hated her.  
"I wasn’t trying to imply that at all Stiles" she said, writing in her notebook  
"Yes you were! you had that tone, like that can't be the only thing. like 'look at this kid, twenty-one and his best friend is still the only thing that makes him happy, makes him feel something'. Well that’s not true, other things excite me, other…people" He stopped before he said his name. It hurt too much that they took him away.  
"Like Derek?"  
"Please don’t" He wasn’t going to talk about him, about the wolf.  
"Stiles, we need to talk about these things, the things that scare you"  
"No"  
Stiles…"

  
"I said no! God why do you have to be such a bitch about it, stop pushing it! I don’t want to talk about him! that…that…"  
"fine we won't talk about him, but Stiles" she waited until he was looking at her "You are displacing your anger and anxiety on me and while I understand it I will not tolerate you calling me names"  
She was so calm and kept saying his name and it irked him even more.  
"I'm sorry" He was. A little. "I just have…" she waited for him.  
"I just have all this anxiety and nervous energy running through me all the time! it's like my body is shaking on the inside but not on the outside. and everyone wants to touch me! Scott, my dad, Melissa, you…D-Der... I don’t want to be touched. I just want it to stop!" He ended with his head in his hands, his fingers pulling at his hair.  
"Hey" She said, again waiting for him to calm himself and look at her "It's ok to feel that way. It's ok to not want to be touched, and it's ok to not want to see or talk to Derek" The flinch at his name did not go unnoticed by her "What's not ok is not trying to find out why you feel this way. So let's talk about one last thing before you go for today. Let's talk about what you were working on before you got taken"

  
"Okay…"  
"So tell me what was it?"  
"It was…it was…it…" Stiles breath became increasingly erratic, his heart pounding in his chest.  
"It's ok Stiles, no one is going to hurt you here" She said

  
"I can't. No one can know, especially them!" He got up from the couch "Can we be done, please"  
"Yes, we can be done. I will see you in two days" She walked him to the door and then watched as he walked down the hall towards where his father was waiting.

  
It was only three weeks of Stiles going to see Ms. Morrell and Scott could already see glimpses of the old Stiles coming back. He would joke a little more, smile a little more, everything about him was changing and it was all for the better. He would still lash out every once in a while, getting angry when everyone would ask if he was ok still, or when his dad or Scott kept wanting to touch him, both just doing it because they needed that reassurance he was still there, still alive, still Stiles. Scott hated that he had to pull Stiles out of panic attacks almost once a day, the smallest of things setting him off. Scott also hated that he was the only wolf that Stiles would let anywhere near him. Derek tried on more than one occasion over the past few weeks to try to talk to Stiles, try to just get near him. Stiles couldn’t take even just the sound of his name and Ms. Morrell was not getting any closer to figuring out why. Scott hated that Stiles lost Derek because it was good, Derek kept Stiles grounded, something that Stiles needed with all the thoughts always running rampant through his mind. Derek needed Stiles too and Scott couldn’t stand that someone would take something else away from him.

  
Stiles was also starting to open up about what he was working on. Stiles was always good at figuring things out, he could research the shit out of something and when he was done he was an expert. Stiles was working on a serum that could make werewolves immune to wolfs bane. Hunters were still around, Scott had to deal with a few just in the last month so having something like that could save countless werewolf lives, including his own. The people, they still didn’t know who took Stiles, could do a lot with the knowledge that Stiles had trapped in his brain. That type of knowledge in the wrong hands could do a lot of damage, even reversing everything that Stiles researched, and producing and using it in a lethal way against all werewolves. Stiles revealed that the serum, if used in reverse could kill a werewolf instantly, unlike most types of wolfs bane that takes, sometimes hours. Scott didn’t understand all the science behind it when Stiles tried to explain it but trusted him, knew that the torture Stiles went through was for Scott, for Derek, for all the future little weres that would someday occupy Beacon Hills.

  
"So what are you working on with Ms. Morrell?" Scott asked. They were at Scotts house playing video games. Well Scott was playing video games, Stiles was trying to catch up on the years worth of schooling he missed while he was gone.  
"um. Just trying to remember what happened while they…while I was with…them" Stiles stopped writing to look up at Scott. The pain was evident in his eyes, Scott hated seeing it, wished he could leech it all of him.  
"Oh."  
"Yeah, it's not the happiest of times right now. But hey, soon I'll be a real boy and won't have to see her anymore and all will be happy and normal again ya know" The sarcasm and sadness was in every word he spoke that it took Scott aback for a second.

  
"Stiles…" what do you say to that. Scott didn’t know how to do this, how to sit back and let someone else help his best friend.  
"Scott. Dude, it's ok. stop worrying about me. I'm getting better, this whole talking about your feelings things is actually helping. So…just stop worrying about me"  
"Yeah. ok" that was a whole lot easier said than done.

  
The next time Stiles walked into Ms. Morrell's office, one month after he originally started going, he jumped on the green, it was green!, swivel chair and twirled around and around. It was almost freeing, the way the room spun turning into one big blur. He didn’t have to pick out shapes or colors, the world was just him and a giant blur of colors.  
"Stiles" Morrell said, stopping Stiles chair "Can we please get down to business?'  
"To defeat the Huns?" Stiles could feel the smile on his face and he kind of liked it.  
"Excuse me?"  
"never mind" he said with a smirk "Yes, business, let's get down to it"

  
"I'd like us to go back to the room if that’s alright with you?"  
It wasn’t alright with Stiles but he knew if he wanted to get better, wanted to be a real boy like he told Scott he had to go back. "Um, yeah"  
"I'd like to try to get to the point of leaving. We need to figure out how you got out. Would you like to lie on the couch again?"  
Stiles silently got off the green chair and walked over to the couch. He lay down, took one deep breath and closed his eyes. "Ok I'm ready"  
"We can stop anytime Stiles, anytime you feel unsafe or too scared to go on just say the word. You remember the scale?"  
"Yes" Stiles said again taking a deep breath "one for good to go, 10 for oh my god get me out of here"  
"Yes." Stiles could practically see Morrell smirking behind his eyelids "So let's begin, take me back to the room"

  
Stiles began by describing the chilling blackness, emptiness, he felt walking down what he thought was a long corridor. He remembers a door being opened and then being unceremoniously thrown onto the cold, damp, stone floor. He took the hood off his head and after his eyes adjusted he was met with a simple concrete, square room.

  
"Number Stiles" He heard Morrell's voice, but it sounded far away. He knew where he was, could feel the leather under his fingers.  
"Two"

  
She let him continue. He remembers screaming for hours, screaming until his voice was hoarse and raw. He also knew they drugged him, his body felt weak, heavy. After what could have been minutes but felt like days a man came in. Stiles tried to rush him, tried to somehow knock him down but couldn’t, his body just wouldn’t cooperate. They exchanged the usual 'why am I here' 'what do you want from me' pleasantries. Stiles figured out pretty quickly, even with his foggy mind, why they wanted him.

  
"Number Stiles" Again Morrell's voice was far away, the leather under his finger tips keeping him grounded in the office.  
"Two"

  
For months they just talked. They kept him fed, kept him drugged but didn’t touch him. they tried to get information about the serum out of him but he wouldn’t budge, telling them they should just kill him now. The hallucinations started soon after that. Stiles didn’t know how they were doing it, didn’t understand at first that he was hallucinating.  
"It’s a plant Stiles. The Datura plant" Morrell's voice sounded loud this time, a confirmation that it wasn't real, he was just, for lack of better word, pretending to be back in that room.  
The plant made him feel like he was going crazy. He would see and hear things that weren't there for hours on end. That also was when the torture started. They would drug him with the plant and then they would beat, cut, burn him. They somehow managed to make him hallucinate certain things, maybe it was word association, Stiles doesn’t know but they started with Scott. Then they moved onto to werewolves in general. They would make him hallucinate about these things and then torture him, conditioning him to fear his best friend and what he is. They thought that if they couldn’t have what they wanted then they would start taking things away from me. It went from Scott, to werewolves, to…to…D-De…

  
"Number Stiles" Stiles heart was racing, he was losing it. his breath was too quick. he needed out.  
"10"  
"Ok Stiles come back. It's over. you're safe here"  
"No…No! I can do this! I need to do this!"

  
So Stiles continued. He talked about the torture getting worse until one day it stopped. He remembers hearing a lot of commotion coming from all around the halls. The echo of people running, and yelling was almost deafening. He ran for the door yelling for someone, anyone, to help him. He thought he was finally safe, someone was finally rescuing him, and then a man came in. He pulled a hood over his head and just before Stiles felt the prick of a needle in his skin he heard the man's voice, 'This isn't over' he said 'We know where to find you' and then he just woke up on the street. He thinks that something went wrong, maybe someone was coming for them, but not for Stiles. All he knows is that he wasn’t there anymore and now he walks around feeling like someone is constantly watching him. Feeling like someone is always going to be just around the corner waiting to take him away again. Stiles breath began to quicken again, the fear of being put back in that room becoming too much.

  
"Stiles. It's ok"  
Stiles heard her voice but it took a minute for him to calm down. He slowly opened his eyes almost expecting to be in the cold, damp room. The leather under him anchored him to the office, to the real world but he still felt lost.  
"How many fingers do you have Stiles?"  
Stiles counted. Ten. His breathing slowed until it was back to normal.

  
"So we got out. I'm very proud of you but I think we Still need to talk about Derek. You get stuck on him every time we tried this exercise and while I'm very proud of you today for continuing I think its time"  
"I don’t want to talk about him. I don’t need to talk about him to get past all this" Stiles said, trying really hard to believe it.  
"Stiles. They took him away from you, used him against you. He was someone important to you and now you can't even say his name. I know it has to hurt that they took him from you" Morrell said

  
"Yes. God damn it. Yes it hurts ok! I hate that of all the people they used against me it was Scott and Derek but they did. I still have to tell myself that Scott won't hurt me every few minutes I'm with him. They used Derek… they used him longer, they realized it hurt me more to think that he would hurt me and the torture was longer and more brutal and I can't just forget that ok! I wish I could, I wish I could just go to him and tell him how much I needed him! How much I hate him for not coming to get me, how much I still lo…" Stiles stopped himself from going any further, his fire finally burning out.  
"Well Stiles, you just said his name twice. That’s more than you’ve ever said it in here before, so that's progress. I was thinking, what if he came to a session."  
"No"  
"This is a safe environment Stiles. I think having him here, in front of you will help you realize that he is not going to hurt you, as much as your mind is telling you he is."  
"But what if he does" Stiles voice was small, childlike.  
"I think having him here will help you realize that he won't, wouldn’t ever hurt you. What if we just try, and if it's too much for you than he leaves and we revisit it some other time?"

  
Stiles hated it but he needed Derek back. As much as it scared him to even just say his name he wanted to try, for himself, and for Derek. "Ok"  
Stiles felt like he was back to the start. He came in the office on top of the world, spinning freely away from everything, and now he felt like he was back in the concrete room, fighting for his life.

  
Derek missed Stiles. He missed his smile, his sarcasm, the way he touched Derek for no reason, the way he moved so freely around a room. Stiles was slowly becoming the world to Derek, something that he thought could never happen. Derek didn’t trust people, didn’t let people in. Stiles anchored Derek to this world and without him Derek was slowly slipping. Getting him back and then losing him again so quickly broke down all the walls Derek spent a year building back up. Derek didn’t know what to do to help Stiles. He wanted to, he really, really wanted to but how can you help someone if they can't even be near you? Derek hated the fear he saw in Stiles eyes the night he showed up at his house. Stiles never looked at Derek like that, like Derek was going to rip him apart right then and there. Stiles has looked at Derek with hatred in his eyes, fascination, lust but never with abject fear. It hurt Derek down to his core.

  
When Morrell called to ask if he would come to a session, to see Stiles Derek practically jumped at the opportunity. He understood that it was going to be a very stressful session but he needed to see Stiles, even if only for a moment. He hated the people who took Stiles away from him. He figured, from the information he got from Scott and the Sheriff, that they were scientist. He also came to his own conclusion that they were probably working for hunters. Given the new information from Stiles, Scott, the Sheriff, Agent McCall and Derek were all trying to find them. Even Chris Argent was on the case, something had to come up and when it did Derek wasn’t sure if he would be able to control himself.  
The waiting room down the hall from the office was blue. Stiles liked blue. Derek couldn’t stand it. It mocked him, Stiles was down the hall, heart beating fast, breath coming out even faster. Derek wanted to go to him, wanted to comfort him, wanted to breath with him. Instead he was in the waiting room surrounded by the color blue. Stiles liked blue. Derek hated that he had to wait for Stiles to be ok to see him, Stiles always wanted to see him before and those bastards took that away from him. He didn’t want to listen in on what Stiles was saying but it was so hard. He was right there and Derek felt so close and yet thousands of miles away. He only listened in when Stiles heart spiked up, and that usually happened when Morrell brought him up again. The werewolf part of him seemed to be what was really triggering all the panic. Derek tried to understand it, tried to wrap his mind around the fact that Stiles, his Stiles, was never coming back. For the rest of his life Stiles was going to have to deal with all his panic and pain, and fear. What hurt Derek the most was that all the panic and fear was coming from something that was a part of Derek, something that Derek can never take away, can never change.  
Morrell came into the waiting room and it was Derek's turn to panic. She didn’t say much just told him that Stiles was ready and to follow her down the hall. Derek took a deep breath and zeroed in on the sound of Stiles heartbeat, a sound that always calmed him down. Walking into the room Stiles scent hits him instantly. It’s a citrus scent, oranges and lemons, mixed with toothpaste and the waffles he had for breakfast but under that is anxiety, and pain, and fear. Their eyes met for half a second before Stiles looked away. Derek felt weak right in that moment, wishing with all his heart that he could change everything about himself.

  
"Number Stiles?" Morrell's voice startled him, he almost forgot she was still in the room.  
"Ten" Stiles voice was a whisper, his breath coming out ragged.  
"Can Derek sit?" She asked. Derek realized he was still standing just inside the door. Stiles was on a couch, Marin, Ms. Morrell, it was weird that she even had a first name, was in a chair in front of Stiles. Stiles nodded almost imperceptibly.  
"Derek, why don’t you sit in that green chair, but don’t move it yet"

  
Derek did as he was told, never taking his eyes off of Stiles. He sat and Stiles let the breath he was holding out.  
"Number Stiles?"  
"Ten still" Derek hated the way his voice sounded, so small and weak.  
"So Derek is here. He is in the room with you. Your still at a ten but do you think you can sit with that for a little bit? say three minutes?" Morrell asked and Stiles nodded so they all sat, in silence for three minutes. Derek almost couldn't stand the silence. Stiles was never this quiet, it almost looked painful for him. Stiles eyes were squeezed shut and you could almost see the wheels turning in his head. Derek was beginning to hate himself for putting Stiles through what looked like a very painful ordeal.  
"Number Stiles?" Morrell asked when the time was up  
"Nine"

  
"Ok, that’s good. Now I'm going to ask Derek to move a little closer and we will see how that goes. Number?"  
"Ten. Does he have to move closer?" That almost broke Derek. That simple question. He didn’t have to move closer, he never had to move closer if Stiles was going to be hurting from it but god did he want too. He just wanted to sit on the couch and pull the boy into him, scent and mark him and hide him away so no one could ever hurt him again. Instead, he sat.  
"Yes. He does have to move closer. but not a lot just an inch or two if that’s all that you can take for now"  
"Ok" Stiles voice seemed to echo around the room. Derek rolled the chair an inch forward. Stiles pulled his feet up onto the couch.  
"Number Stiles?"  
"Ten. Ten, ten, ten. please don’t…please don’t let him hurt me."

  
Derek wanted to run. His wolf was growling inside of him, telling him to get out, stop hurting the boy you love. They kept repeating the same thing over and over for the next hour, trying to break the year of mental conditioning that the monsters did to Stiles. It got better, his numbers kept going down but they all knew it was going to take months, possibly years for Stiles to ever get back to anywhere near the person he used to be. That fact hurt Derek the most.

  
Five Months. It took Stiles five months to be ok with Derek. Derek was a trooper through the whole thing, dealing with all the panic attacks, the verbal attacks. Not once did the love in Derek's eyes falter. Stiles fell in love all over again in the last few months that they worked together. That’s what it was work. Everyday Stiles got better but it was still a lot of work to keep his mind straight around Derek, and Scott. Both wolves that Stiles knew deep down would never hurt him or use him, but when you go through something like he did it's hard to just bounce back from that. Everyone kept saying that Stiles was so strong to get to where he was. Stiles didn’t feel strong, mentally or physically. He felt weak all the time, he didn’t feel safe and didn’t know how to find a safe place. It used to be Derek, Derek became his safe place but the scientist took that from him.  
Scott told him that they found the people who took him. It was a group of scientist working for a group of hunters. The hunters were using the scientist to come up with new forms of torture for werewolves, new ways to kill them more easily. Scott also told Stiles that they were all dead, every single one. Hunters, scientist, all of them. Derek shouldn’t have went with them but no one could stop him and unfortunately they couldn’t control him when they got to the hide out and he went off. Stiles was glad and also very sad for Derek. He wanted them dead, wished them dead on many different occasions but to hear that it was done, to hear that Derek did it. It hurt. He didn’t want Derek to lose himself. Not for him, not when he was already so lost himself. One of them needed to be ok.

  
Everyday Stiles had to spend time with Derek. Not alone, he never had to do it alone, not until he was ready. Usually Scott went with him but sometimes his dad would go too. Sometimes it was with Ms. Morrell. The days with Scott were pretty uneventful, they just hung out at Derek's house. Stiles rediscovered all his favorite spots in the house. The main one being in Derek's drawing room. They would reminisce about all the times Derek spent in that room drawing Stiles, all the times Stiles spent in that room making fun of Derek for only wanting to draw him.  
It was a good day. Stiles was having more and more of those. He liked those days. Sitting in the drawing room, the sun warming his face. Derek came in the room, Stiles always knew when he was near, whether it was instinct or just self preservation he didn’t know but Stiles always knew when the wolf was near. "Hey" he said, not turning away from the sun.

  
"Hi" Derek was still so timid around him. Stiles understood it, was thankful sometimes for it but sometimes he wished that they could just get back to normal. "So…"  
"Sew buttons" Stiles said with a small smirk.  
"What do you want to do today?" He finally asked.  
"I don’t know. What do you want to do?"  
"I'm fine with just hanging out. Drawing"

  
"Yeah Id liked that" Stiles couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face. Normal was overrated. If he could just hang out with Derek for the rest of his life, watching him draw, his best friend in the other room playing video games, he would. So with that he struck his best pose and with a huge smile said "Draw me like one your French girls"  
They both laughed, big, belly, smile from ear to ear laughs. It felt good, it felt normal. For the first time in a long time Stiles felt better, safe.  
Two years, three months, and four days. That’s how long it took for Stiles to feel like himself again. He still had to remind himself every day that he was safe, that no one was going to take him away from Derek. Derek was really the one that saved him, he was so gentle, and forgiving of Stiles giving him all the time he needed. Time, that was what Stiles really needed. All the sessions with Morrell helped, and he still calls her every once in a while even if it is just to say thank you. Having Scott as a best friend was everything to Stiles. Even after all the panic attacks because he was a werewolf, after all the yelling and names, Scott never left. His faith in Stiles never wavered and Stiles will forever be grateful for Scott and all the love he has in his heart for his friends.

  
Nine months, five days, and 12 hours. That’s how long it took Stiles to realize that he is irrevocably, unconditionally in love with Derek Hale. He always knew, it was always there, the spark. Hitting bottom and having to crawl his way back out of a deep black hole helped push Stiles over the edge. He hated hating Derek. He needed to crawl and fight his way back to him because he knew that a life without Derek Hale in it was a life he did not want to live. Waking up to Derek was also something that Stiles never wanted to live without. Seeing the wolf sleeping peacefully next to him was something that Stiles never thought he would experience. It took a lot to get there. A lot of panic attacks, a lot of reassuring himself all the time, a lot of patience on Derek's part but they did it. They did it together and Stiles hopes that the rest of his life is full of things he will do together with Derek by his side.

  
Derek stretched next to Stiles. Stiles couldn’t help but stare at all the muscles rippling and then going taut in his body. He wanted to lick his chest, suck marks onto his neck. For now he just stared.  
"Mmm, good morning" Derek finally said, his voice still sleep rough.

  
"Yes it really is" Stiles said, a smile on his face and a glint in his eye. He had plans for the wolf, and for once he was ok with everything Derek was. His number was one and it was going to stay that way for a long time. Stiles couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with Derek.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story I've ever posted on here so please be nice.


End file.
